Mishandled
by Lily Vipers
Summary: A reworking of season one with a hint of unrequited love, laughter, shenanigans, and emotional tragedy. Summary might change later on. [JoshxSam]


**_Title:_** _Mishandled_

 ** _Category:_** _West Wing_

 ** _Summary:_** _A reworking of season one with a hint of_ _unrequited love, laughter, shenanigans, and emotional tragedy. Summary might change later on. [JoshxSam]_

 ** _Pairing:_** _Sam x Josh_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing._

 ** _Author's Note:_** _I was binge watching West Wing for the past month and blew through the first season. However, it was the first two episodes of season two that really got me into this pairing. There was so much potential with this two and maybe I'm attracted to tragedy and angst and sad endings that this came about. Most of the spoken dialogue is courtesy of Aaron Sorkin with little changes here and there. This is a re-imagining of the first season and it would (hopefully) diverge from canon as the story goes on._

xXxXxXx

Sam Seaborn, Deputy White House Communications Director, was having an atrocious day. Almost scandalous, but mostly rotten, dreadful and crummy as well as all the adjectives in the world for the word "lousy," him making a fool of himself not twenty minutes prior while trying to comfort an ex-lover.

This was not a good day.

And Billy Kentworthy of the Wall Street Journal was not making the day any easier, because a high ranking guy sitting alone in the bar must be in want of conversation and spreading gossip.

Sam just needed a drink. Alone. In misery. Brooding. Pondering. Was that too much to ask?

"I don't think we're gonna run the table," said Sam, sighing. He lazily swung his glass a little, watching the liquid swirl in circles before putting the glass down. "If that's what you're asking."

"It's not what I'm asking," Billy said hurriedly, trying to get a scoop on a story before anyone else. His eyes were lit with passion and his fingers impatiently tapped the counter.

"I know." Sam's reflection in the mirror behind the bartender was not kind: eyes red, tie disheveled, collar untucked. Billy should had inquired about that, a more scandalous story to behold than the one about Josh on the talk show.

"Deep background," continued Billy, edging closer to Sam, elbow almost rubbing elbow. "I'm not gonna come close to using your name."

"You're not gonna come close to getting a quote, either," replied Sam. He used to have that constant, aggressive energy, the one Billy was exerting. Sam wasn't sure if the months in the White House or the year spent on the campaign trail had stripped him bare; his stamina now ebbs and flows, depending on his mood and muster.

"Why are we sitting here?" asked Billy, still not getting the hint of _go away_ from Sam's demeanor.

"You sat down," said Sam, slowly. He took another sip of his drink. "I'm just having a drink to wash away the terrible day I'm having."

"Is Josh on his way out?" Billy bluntly asked. This was the whole point of the conversation after all. At least he wasn't beating around the bush anymore.

Sam directed his attention to the reporter before him, eyeing him up and down. "No," he said quickly and firmly. _Never_.

"Is he?" pushed Billy, his eyes a bit wild in anticipation with the possibility that Sam's answer was anything but _no_.

"You are not making this day any better," Sam pointly said. He was a good soldier. He had his marching orders. This was not it. "I'm not talking about this, Billy."

"Come on, Sam," pried Billy, his breath hot against Sam's ear. "I know you're close with Lyman. I know you have an inner ear with the President. You got to know what's going to happen."

 _When will this guy shut up?_ "Joshua Lyman's not going anywhere, Billy," said Sam once again. "It's a non-story."

Billy nodded his head, ignoring every single thing Sam just said. "Using his full name. A definitive and poor indicator of deflecting direction."

Sam sighed again, wishing the conversation was already over with. He should had gone back to his own place and drowned his sorrows there, but he couldn't face the empty, hollow apartment. It was pathetic. Another reminder of what he had given up to serve the President of the United States. "Billy, why would I lie to a reporter of all people?" asked Sam sarcastically.

"Sam." Billy's voice almost whined when he said Sam's name, as if he kept begging the White House staffer would eventually give up and tell him the scoop.

Sam rested his head in his hands as the reporter continued to talk and nag about Josh. He came to the bar to forget about Josh. Not spend thirty minutes talking about him non-stop. Sam turned his head away from Billy and glanced about the room. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Is that woman over there looking at me?"

xXxXxXx

" _Lady, the God you pray to is too busy getting indicted for tax fraud!"_

Josh calmly pressed the rewind button again, his eyes dead as he watched the horrific experience before him once again on tape. Though, he got to say, it was only second of two incidents that happened yesterday.

This he would survive from. The other? Only time would tell.

"You shouldn't have wore that tie on television," said Donna, her voice cutting through the muddled thoughts in Josh's head. "It bleeds." He didn't even hear her come in.

"I don't think the tie was what got me in trouble," said Josh. Rewind. Fast-forward. Rewind. Pause.

"Yeah, but I've told you a zillion times," replied Donna, holding a mug of hot coffee in her hands. "Even Sam agreed with me." That, Josh could tell, was for his benefit. She was always perceptive, even if she didn't have the whole story.

Josh reluctantly let go of the remote and turned around, ready to tell off his assistance for conspiring against him with the Deputy Communications Director, when he noticed the mug.

"What's that?" asked Josh, almost afraid to hear the answer from a well-rounded but occasionally terrifying assistant.

"It's coffee."

Well, this day couldn't get any worst.

xXxXxXx

The door slammed open, startling the White House staffers in the hallway. "Margaret!" yelled the Chief of Staff Leo McGarry. "Get Senator Russell's office on the phone!" He promptly walked away, leaving behind two men looking a bit bewildered.

Sam took one look at Josh, before looking away. "Is that the same suit you wore yesterday?" he asked the man standing too close next to him, shoulders bumping and hands almost touching.

Josh sighed as he let out his answer. "Yeah."

Sam crossed his arms before uncrossing them, anything to chase this feeling away from inside of him. He refused to look at Josh. "You shouldn't had worn the tie."

Josh absently nodded his head. Sam's voice hung around the air that surrounded Josh, trying to drag him down whole and alive and dying. "I know."

Sam began to walked away into the crowded hallway, effectively ending the conversation. The staffers were hurrying back and forth, though Josh could see that some slowed down a bit to see how this interaction played out.

Josh didn't care that he was breaking an unspoken rule. He needed to have the last words. "Sam, is that the same suit _you_ wore yesterday?"

Sam paused and looked back, giving Josh a tired and worried look. "Yeah."

Josh nodded his head again, a little shimmer of hope beginning to form in his chest, before he realized that he was himself, Josh the destroyer of all things good and right in the world. For example, remember the talk show yesterday? He took the bait and swallowed it whole. "Are we okay?"

"We will be," admitted Sam.

Josh swore that there was a golden halo around Sam's body, an inch out of time or maybe competing realities fighting to break through. (Or maybe Josh needed more sleep.) "This is not the time…," began Josh as he rubbed his eyes, washing away the gold and light and holiness from his vision.

"I'm fine, Josh," Sam interrupted. He gave Josh a small smile. "Really."

"Okay." Josh knew that Sam was lying.

xXxXxXx

"Can I ask you something?" asked Sam, a bit distracted as he looked at Laurie with wide eyes.

"Do men pay money to spend time with me?" Laurie slowly asked.

"No. No," replied Sam, shaking his head as he started to babble. "What I was gonna say was this: Is it possible, that in addition to being a law student and part-time bartender, that you are what I'm certain would have to be a very high-priced call girl. I, by the way, make no judgments. But the things is, with my job…"

"Yeah." interrupted Laurie. She absentmindedly nodded along her answer, given him a nonverbal response as well as the verbal.

"Yes?" asked Sam, still not believing her response, both body language and spoken.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," said Laurie. She was about to reach out and touch his arm, but thought better of it and pulled back. "I should had told you. I wanted you to like me."

"I did," said Sam. He felt lighter around her, lighter than he felt in days. She was smart and funny and made him forget all the bad in the world. "I do."

"That's sweet." Laurie gave Sam a smile and stepped a little closer. Sam almost took a step back. (Apparently not as light as he thought he was.)

"Well, this was just my luck," said Sam. He shrugged his shoulders a bit as he continued talking. "I embarrassed myself in front of my ex and I accidentally slept with a hooker. I am having a _spectacular_ day."

"I take offense at that notion," Laurie suddenly said. Her face was crossed at Sam's choice of word. "Me being, in your terms, a hooker does not define my whole existence."

Sam began playing with a loose thread on his pants. How did he get himself into this situation? All he wanted was to take his mind off of Josh and not be part of a White House sex scandal. (Though, either way it would be a political sex scandal to the nature of Hamilton and Reynolds. Clinton and Lewinsky. Kennedy and Monroe? Maybe he thought too highly of himself.) "Sorry, it just that the nature of my job and given my proximity to the President…"

Laurie nodded. She hesitantly took a step back. Her eyes soften. "I get it."

There was a pause before Sam half-handedly made a motion with his hand in the direction of the door. "I got to go." His feet seemed to drag as he made his way to the opened door. Maybe he should had closed that after he gotten into the apartment. Stealth was not his specialty, or maybe he was tired of hiding his life away.

"Sam?" Laurie's voice cut through the silence.

"Yeah?"

"You've got my pager," she said as she walked around and faced him.

"Right." Sam handed her pager back, his hand awkwardly hang in the air a bit after she took it from him.

"Thanks."

There was a siren off in the distance. Neighbors in the distance. Television in the background. "Listen, I don't know how often…" began Sam.

"Sam," said Laurie, her eyes downcast. "Go. You don't know who I am. I get it."

This was not how Sam wanted this to end. He liked her company. He liked being around her. However, his job was on the line. It was not about him. He served the President. He wanted to serve the President. "It's just that people in the media would pay a lot of money for…"

"I know. Go," continued Laurie. "And, besides, I'm not sure I want to hang out with someone who is still hung up on his ex." There was a hint of smile on her lips.

"Laurie," said Sam sighing. He was becoming more like Josh every day. "That's not it. This was never about that."

"I know. Just go. It's okay."

The door never sounded louder as he slowly closed it behind him.

xXxXxXx

"No."

Donna rolled her eyes at Josh's stubbornness. "Put it on."

"No." Josh crossed his arms and faced away from his assistance. Yes, he could be a pigheaded two-years old if the situation called for it. He lived for those moments.

"You've been wearing the same clothes for thirty-one hours now, Josh." Donna playfully swung the shirt in her hands back and forth, trying to tempt Josh into changing the disgusting, wrinkled-filled shirt he currently had on.

"I am not getting spruced up for these people, Donna." He turned around and glared at her. Josh always wanted to put on an air of _don't screw with me_ aura and this was the opportunity to do so. All he needed now was a leather jacket.

Donna smirked at his sad attempt in laying out his authority. "All the girls think you look really hot in this shirt."

Straight in the eyes. Don't back down. Voice firmed. He got this. "No."

"Fine," Donna said. She placed his shirt on the table alongside a freshly laundered pants and twirled a strand of her hair as she walked away. Once she was at the doorway and knew that Josh was following every single one of her movement, Donna turned her head to the side and off-handedly said to the wall, "Sam hangs out in your office more when you wear this shirt." Her voice echoed loudly in the room, even amongst the bustle of the staffers outside Josh's office. She closed the door behind her and stood for a second, listening to the sounds beyond the self-made wall. Satisfied, Donna caught another staffer's eyes and said, "Bonnie, tell Toby he's changing his shirt."

xXxXxXx

"Ms. O'Brien, I understand your feelings, but please believe me when I tell you that I'm a nice guy who's having a bad day. I just found out that the New York Times is about to publish a poll which tells us that a considerable portion of Americans believe that the White House has lost focus and energy. A perception that's not likely to be altered by the video footage of the President riding a bicycle into a tree. As we speak, the Coast Guard is fishing Cuban refugees out of the Atlantic Ocean while the Governor of Florida wants to blockade the Port of Miami, and my best friend, who's the only one who was ever there for me when I needed someone to be there for me, is about to be fired because he went on television and made sense, and to top it all off, it turns out I accidentally slept with a prostitute last night after I made a fool of myself by showing up at my ex's and got rejected. Now would you please, in the name of compassion, tell me which one of those kids in there is my boss's daughter," demanded Sam desperately as he eyed the woman in front of him. He needed this day to go right. Something to go his way. _Anything._

"That would be me," Mallory said as she processed what been told to her. There were no one else in the hallway beside the two of them, an unusual occurrence given the location.

"You," said Sam in disbelief. His lips in a thin line.

"Yes." Her eyes held firm as she gave her answer.

"Leo's daughter's fourth grade class," Sam slowly reiterated as he thought back to the conversation and finally understood what was said to him.

"Yes," Mallory again confirmed. Her eyebrows raised in a clear defiance, egging him on with his choice of words and direction.

"Well," said Sam with a sudden slight, nervous laugh. "This is bad on _so_ many levels."

"And making a fool of yourself in front of your ex or sleeping with a prostitute is not an equivalent?" asked Mallory.

"You're right," agreed Sam. He looked off to the side and back at Mallory. "I'm just going to go and dig myself a hole to bury my body. It was nice meeting you."

xXxXxXx

"Okay, can I just say that, as it turned out, I was the calmest person in the room?" said Josh as he followed the group back into the Oval Office as they walked through the various hallways.

"Way to stay cool," mocked CJ.

"I am not empowered to auction off the Bill of Rights," said Toby.

"I thought you were going to take a swing at her there," teased Josh as he followed the Communications Director.

"She was calling us New York Jews, Josh."

"Yeah, but being from Connecticut, I didn't mind so much. You, CJ, on the other hand, were brilliant," said Josh as he looked back at the Press Secretary. "I especially like the part where you said absolutely nothing at all."

"I'm sorry, Josh. I was distracted. All I could really think about was Lloyd Russell and your girlfriend," said CJ, a little bit too elated with the information at hand.

"Really?" asked Sam as he and Leo finally walked into the Oval Office behind CJ. She went over to Toby to questioned him more on the meeting while Leo sat down waiting for the President, leaving Sam and Josh alone off in a corner.

"Yeah, I'm going to put an end to that," said Josh.

"Well, it's not really your place to meddle now," replied Sam. His hands were in his pockets and he looked off to the side, anywhere but at the man standing beside him. "Is it, Josh?"

"Sam, don't make this into a thing."

"I'm not making this into a thing, Josh."

"You are making it a thing, Sam."

Sam gave Josh a long look before stepping away from him and stood by the president's desk.

The door suddenly opened with what seemed like a bang and the remaining conversations stopped as the President walked into the room. "Hello, Mr. President. Did you have a nice trip, sir? How's the ankle, sir."

xXxXxXx

After the meeting, Josh pulled Sam into an empty office as the senior staff walked back to their respective offices.

"Sam," began Josh. He examined the man before him, noticing dark circles beneath the eyes and his ashen looking skin. Sam was leaning against the wall next to the door while Josh was standing a bit too close and not close enough in front of him. "I thought you said you were fine."

"Josh," said Sam. His tone sounded tired and demeanor seemed to eased.

"I know," replied Josh. Nothing more was ever needed to be said.

Sam nodded. "I will be fine. Just give me a few days."

"This is for the President," stated Josh.

"I know."

"He's the real deal," said Josh, a sentence he had said a hundred times before would probably say a hundred times more.

Sam smiled. All of the sudden his demeanour lighten up, brightening the room and Josh. He missed Sam's smile. There was too little of it lately. Sam could light up the room with that smile. The movie-star quality. A light in the dark. (Sam's smile been running through Josh's mind lately.)

"And making those comments on TV will help him how?" asked Sam, the corner of his lips turned upward and Josh could see a hint of teeth.

This was not the time to be thinking about that. "Sam."

"I know."

"We're making changes here," continued Josh. There must always be a reason. There must always be an excuse. This was bigger than the two of them.

"I know."

"This will be worth it," said Josh. Because it had to. This needed to be worth it if Josh was to give up his personal life.

"Will it?" asked Sam. Seeing that Josh had no answer to his question, Sam pushed himself off the wall and went over to the door to head out, before he paused and said, "You should wear that color more often. It brings out your eyes."

Josh didn't even hear the door shutting over the pounding in his head.


End file.
